NENETTE AND BONI (Nénette et Boni) B+
France (103 mi) 1996 d: Claire Denis
France (103 mi) 1996 d: Claire Denis
One of the director’s more most sensitive, humane and
accessible films, what initially appears to be a pair of mismatched lovers only
becomes revealed as brother and sister a half hour into the film, where Nénette
(Alice Houri) and Boni (Grégoire Colin) share a troubled past, where both have
grown distant from living apart following the separation of their parents, each
living with a different parent, culminating with the death of their mother,
where Boni is living in her house. Both
earlier played siblings in Denis’s made-for-French-TV film U.S. GO HOME (1994),
reunited here as title characters, a constantly embroiled brother and sister
living in Marseilles. Much of their
relationship is expressed through constant bickering, often turning ugly, where
the one thing they both share is a uniform hatred of their father (Jacques
Nolot). While the film is shot in a
social realist style, where it could just as easily be a product of the
Dardennes brothers, it also contains abruptly strange mood shifts, where we
hear 19-year old school dropout Boni go through his rape and domineering masturbation
ramblings from his diary entries about forcefully screwing the neighbor’s wife,
where he has a fixation on the beautiful baker’s wife (Valeria Bruni-Tedeschi,
gentle, gorgeously quirky, never better).
When his raging male hormone teen sex fantasies blend seamlessly into
the real life of his daily visits to the bakery, it casts an absurdly humorous
skew throughout the entire film, especially when the vernacular of his sex fantasies
becomes intertwined into the bakery world itself, often breaking into utter
fantasy sequences, Bakery Scene from Nenette et Boni YouTube
(3:27). Ironically Boni’s lustful gaze
is counteracted by the director’s own eroticization of Boni, who often becomes
the subject of an exploratory pan or a gorgeously held shot. 15-year old Nénette, on the other hand, has
escaped from boarding school, where the opening sequence in the pool,
especially scored by the Tendersticks, plays out like a reverie of momentary
calm quickly interrupted by a harshly intruding reality, Tindersticks
- Claire Denis Film Scores 1996-2009 Nenette et Boni YouTube (2:29), as she spends much of the film
as a street urchin, having to fend for herself in a hostile environment.
The explosively charged opening rant sets the tone for the
film, which is layered in a relentlessly dreary existence, much of it set in
the financially troubled world of the streets where Boni sells pizzas out of a
truck, while he and his gang of friends also invest heavily in black market
merchandise, resulting in a reverently adored coffeemaker that becomes his most
prized possession. The criminal
underworld extends to his father’s business as well, where one of the givens of
the film is financial insecurity, once more blending into the emotional
instability of the characters. Boni
actually kicks out his rebellious sister, even after learning she’s pregnant,
showing the heartlessness of his situation.
What is quickly realized is that both are essentially alone, two
emotionally damaged misfit kids without any real support, living a minimal
existence in a house that never has any food, where in an awkward way, he
begins to care and feel protective of her.
Once he realizes she’s actually 7-month’s pregnant, viewing an
ultrasound photo confirming there’s a real baby inside, he develops a strangely
fascinating curiosity, which surprisingly becomes the most profoundly affecting
aspect of the story, becoming an unsentimental and totally unpredictable
emotional journey. Having nowhere else
to go, refusing to return to or even see her father, Nénette poignantly
explores her deceased mother’s bedroom, which prompts grainy flashback images
of a happier youth that feels all too brief.
As they warily begin to accept one another, the camera’s exploratory
gaze offers a hint of their previous relationship with a memorable shot that
begins on Boni’s head and shoulders as he sleeps, slowly panning down until we
see both he and Nénette’s feet sticking out at the end of the bed, humorously
contrasting in size, where one gets the sense that they used to sleep like this
in their earlier years. The film’s
rhythm and structure is of paramount interest, as the overriding mood of bleak
reality constantly breaks into moments of excruciating tenderness, where
perhaps the ultimate irony is seeing Vincent Gallo (the baker), usually seen as
such an aggressively macho guy become such a gentle and loving soul, where his
wife is the adoring object of his gazing affections, beautifully scored to the Beach
Boys “God Only Knows” Nenette et Boni Scene YouTube (1:53). Part of the little treasures of the film is
the audience knowing Boni’s fierce sexual obsessions that he keeps to himself while
neither the baker nor his wife have any knowledge whatsoever, knowing Boni only
as a customer, always treating him with kindness and respect.
A distinctly urban film, filled with characters drifting
through seemingly aimless lives, living day to day, hand to mouth, where
there’s an emphasis on poverty, with people struggling to make end’s meet. In a city where no one knows anyone else,
there’s a bit of an abrupt jolt when the baker’s wife (always dressed in baby
pinks or blues) runs into Boni at the shopping mall, his ultimate fantasy,
while she’s clearly happy to see a familiar face “from the neighborhood.” This is prefaced by scenes of Boni on the
street as he stares at the baker’s wife through a store window, becoming one of
the most tender scenes ever committed to celluloid, a love fantasia to the
baker and his wife set to the music of
Tindersticks “Tiny Tears” Tindersticks
- Tiny Tears (From the Soundtrack Nenette et Boni) YouTube (5:54), where the clip is misleading,
as the song is only used in the daydream sequence, where natural sound and
dialogue follow. From this reverie, she
latches onto him, grasping for a connection in the mad holiday rush of
Christmas shopping where they’re literally crushed from the overflowing
crowds. Their conversation couldn’t take
on a more bizarre turn, where she nervously rambles on about the mysterious
effects of chemicals used in making perfume, where especially the way she
describes it makes it sound like a laughable supposition if it weren’t so true,
while he can only stare in disbelief, his brain frozen in dream state. These fantasy interludes are outrageously
exaggerated dreams of a perfect marriage, like something depicted in the
gloriously artificial universe of musicals, perhaps rising out of the painful
void of his own existence, imagining an alternate existence that takes the
place of his own. By the end, reality
veers into alternate universe territory, but in this strange and mysterious
way, it poetically magnifies the theme of unwanted children, showing a teen
mother so traumatized by the unmentioned circumstances surrounding the unnamed
father (with hints that it could be her own incestuous father) that she doesn’t
even want to look at her own child, while at the same time revealing a young
father figure gloriously adoring a child that isn’t even his own, going to
great lengths to make it distinctly and decisively an integral part of his life
forever. A tender and touching portrait
of damaged lives filled with lingering emotional scars, shot throughout with
symbolism, humor, and an intimacy of expression, this is a film doused in a
grim reality that seemingly knows no bounds, but is as optimistically uplifting
as any fairy tale.